Nine Days in Purgatory
by LostinOblivion
Summary: What happened those nine days in between Matt and Emily's breakup and reconciliation? For Squinter. FINISHED!
1. Chapter 1

**Day One**

"Matt, we need to talk," Emily suddenly declared, turning to face him, swiveling her chair a little closer so she could keep her voice low.

"Okay." He figured she'd want to talk at some point, but didn't know what to say.

"Are we going to be able to do this?" She gestured between them.

"You mean still work together?"

She nodded, slightly impatiently.

"Yeah, I can if you can." He shrugged, more secure than he actually felt.

"Sure, I can," Emily answered quickly, not sure she actually felt that way.

"Okay." Sure, it was that simple.

"Okay," she agreed, both turning back to their computers and piles of paperwork.

* * *

"Whoa…easy there Flannery, you'll be outta rounds before you hit anything." Frank whistled as Matt fired his gun off again and again, blasting away at his target and hitting nothing. 

Matt ignored him, continuing to take his rage out on the target, or more correctly the wall surrounding it.

"Matt, stop shooting for a minute." He tried again, slightly worried now.

The only muscled that moved on Matt was his trigger finger, which kept his gun blasting lead at the wall.

"Flannery, stop firing your weapon now! That is an order!" Frank bellowed, issuing an order, a right he had over only his men, and anyone using the shooting range. He'd never had to do that with Matt before now.

Matt finally stopped, reloading, before turning to face Frank with a sneer.

"Man, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"He and Emily broke up," Duff filled in, walking in with perfect timing to the tense situation.

"What? After yesterday at the juvy prison?"

Matt didn't answer, so Duff filled in again, "yeah, after it was over."

"How do you know all this?" Frank wondered why he hadn't heard the same information.

"I just had lunch with Lia, who got breakfast with Emily. She's pretty broken up, Matt." According to Lia, Emily wasn't taking it very well either.

"Does it look like I care?" Matt finally spoke, seething angrily.

Frank smirked, not the least bit afraid of his angry, armed friend, "actually, yes."

"Piss off Frank, I'm practicing."

"No, you're missing, and wasting ammo." He gestured to the clean target and beaten walls.

"Then I should practice more, don't you think?" He just wanted them to leave him in his misery.

"Uh, no I don't think. That's what you negotiators are supposed to do."

"Just leave me alone," the negotiator whined, dropping his pissed attitude in favor for his more accurate depressed attitude.

Frank glanced at his watch. "It's five-thirty, and you aren't getting anything done, so we're going for a beer."

"And what, I get to cry on your shoulder?"

"Man, you can cry all you want, but leave my shoulders out of it." Frank cracked himself up, Duff following suit with his own poorly veiled laughter.

Matt rolled his eyes, and finally gave in, opting for getting sloshed on cold beer over getting laughed at any more. "So are we getting beer or what?"

"Smart man. Let's go." Frank led the way off to Sloan's, still laughing as he went.

"Hey guys, what's it tonight- Matt, you aren't looking so good." Josh, the bartender gave him a concerned look. They took seats on the stools closest to the door, not that they couldn't have had any. It was still early, so the bar was fairly deserted.

"A certain lady broke his heart," Frank answered for him, earning another eye roll from Matt.

"You and Emily broke up? I'm real sorry man, that's got to be rough."

"I'm managing." Matt didn't know how he felt about everybody knowing every detail of their relationship.

"First round is on the house then," he said, sliding three glasses of beer down to them.

"What about second and third rounds?" Frank asked eagerly.

"Those are on you and Duff. And, I get you're keys after five rounds."

"Nice...don't trust us?" Frank batted his eyelashes innocently.

"Just protecting my loyal customers." He grinned at them, and moved over to serve an agent from organized crime.

Matt swallowed his beer in two gulps, not spilling a drop, and not even gagging as the liquid rushed furiously down his throat.

"If you drink like that all evening you're going to be wasted by six."

"Good, then I'll pass out easily tonight." Matt raised his hand for another, sliding the empty glass back down to Josh.

Frank and Duff exchanged looks, and shook their heads; this was worse than they thought. It had become tradition among the three to go to Sloan's after any of them broke up with a girlfriend, and get so impossibly wasted they could barely walk. The last time had been Frank's Carol, a woman he'd dated for six months, before decided she wanted a wedding ring and baby by her next birthday. Poor Frank wasn't even close to being ready for that. Only a few times over the years were the break-ups really painful for any of them, because it wasn't often that the relationships lasted that long. These were men's men, eternal bachelor's that had a whole lot of fun, but generally didn't get too involved.

Frank and Duff had each already mourned their relationships that lasted over a year, Jackie and Maria, and those had been the hardest in the group. Maria was actually on tactical in another unit; the two met in a follow-up course. Duff broke it off after it became obvious that they were doing more fighting than loving, or even talking; that just barely made it over a year. Jackie was a dispatcher for the LAPD, and met Frank when he called in demanding more cops to back them up at a very messy scene. They argued for twenty minutes over whether he had the authority to make that demand, and after she chastised him for being rude, she agreed to a date. He found out 15 months together that she'd been sleeping with one of her precinct's detectives for three months.

Both had been in those relationships longer than Matt and Emily, but there was something between the negotiators that made them grow close very fast. Maybe it was because they were friends and partners first, or that in choosing to pursue their relationship they were risking their jobs. Regardless, their affection for each other was obvious, enough so that Frank and Duff had been expecting this breakup to be a painful one. Even so, tonight, as they watched Matt finish his second mug, it seemed they might see a whole new level of pain.

* * *

Emily finished dabbing the water off her face with a towel, hoping the redness wouldn't show too bad. She hadn't cried last night, but seeing Matt today had been too much, so when she returned home, she let a few tears slip from her eyes. She heard a knock at the door and knew it was Lia. Cursing, she checked her eyes in the mirror, praying Lia wouldn't be able to tell she'd been crying- that would just worry her more. She ran out of the bathroom just as Lia knocked again, and after undoing all the locks, pulled the door open to admit her friend. 

"Hey Em, I brought ice cream and click flicks, just as I promised." She gave Emily a once-over, and decided that, if she had been crying, it wasn't too bad.

"What kind of ice cream did you get?" Emily instantly perked up, happy with the distraction.

"Mint Chocolate Chip, your favorite of course," Lia announced happily.

Emily shook her head in amazement, "I can't believe you remembered that."

They'd gone out for ice cream once, and Emily had been thrilled to get her cone of mint chocolate chip with chocolate sprinkles. But, of course it was just like Lia to remember. She had an uncanny ability to remember the little things that people say, one of those people that never forgets a birthday. And, though she had a reputation as a gossiper, if the gossip involved one of her friends, she was the first by their side for comfort. Lia Mathers was just a very caring person, the kind of which is hard to come by.

"Of course I did, and I also remembered not to get anything too sappy. I picked out two, so you can pick out of them: _Ever After_ and _Say Anything_."

"Oh I love that one! John Cusack is so cute with the boom box at the end." Emily all but shrieked when she heard the title.

"_Say Anything _it is," Lia answered, stuffing the other movie back in the bag. "So, how have you been doing?"

"Since this morning?" Emily asked sarcastically, grabbing bowls and spoons. "I'm alright Lia. It wasn't easy to see him today, but I'm fine."

"Really?" Lia didn't believe her; she'd been Emily's confidant for most of her tenure in LA, and knew that what she had with Matt was a big deal.

"Yeah, it's hard, but it's just like getting over any other failed relationship." Emily dug at the ice cream, spooning it into the bowls as she spoke.

"If you say so."

In only a few minutes they were sitting on Emily's couch, the movie in the DVD player, credits playing. Emily had her legs curled under her, and Lia was working on getting herself into a comfortable position, and lost her spoon in the couch cushions.

"Oh shit." She jumped up, digging for the spoon, which thankfully hadn't made contact with the ice cream yet.

"Did you have something to drink before you came over?" Emily laughed at her friend struggling to dig between the couch and the cushion she'd been on.

"Funny, at least I'm making you laugh," she commented, reaching deep into the couch, and finally coming up with her spoon and a fake ring. It wasn't really attractive: a slightly over thick gold band with a ruby encircled with diamonds, or rather imitations of everything.

"What? Did you find something good?" Emily notice that Lia had stopped searching and was studying something.

"Yeah actually, what's this? Did you have a kid here?" She held out the ring for Emily to see.

"Oh god, I can't believe that was in there…" she was totally captivated by the small object.

"What is it?"

"You remember that the day when I was half out of my mind in April? Everything was going wrong, we were late, my paperwork disappeared, my class wouldn't shut up, my pen exploded on me, and then there was that horrible fire alarm and I got stuck in the elevator?" She cringed as she remembered what a horrible day it had been.

"Oh yeah, I remember we were all outside and couldn't find you, Matt was about ten seconds from panicking when they came out and said it was a false alarm. Cheryl sent half of HRT swarming around the building looking for you." That was a day they'd all remember for a while.

"That was pretty humiliating actually."

"So, the ring?"

"Right, well Matt and I went to get groceries after work, and he saw how miserable and upset I was, so out of nowhere he throws a few quarters into one of those toy machines for kids, and gets this ring. He made a big production of giving it to me, as it was real gold, ruby and diamonds." Emily was twirling ring between two fingers and smiling by the end.

"And he made it all better?" Lia grinned back at her.

"Just him being there made it better, but let's just say if we'd had a little more restraint that ring would have been lost in the bedroom."

"That's sweet, and maybe just a little bit more information than I needed to know about the couch I'm sitting on." She grinned at her friend, who seemed to suddenly remember that she broke up with that sweet man, and grew sullen.

"Yeah…oh look the movie's on." Emily perked up slightly, happy to focus on John Cusack instead of the ring, though she didn't put it down, but cupped it in her hand, allowing it to rest between her skin and the bowl she was holding.

Lia raised an eyebrow, but turned to the TV, figuring Emily would talk more when she was ready.

Emily felt the first tear slip down her cheek barely in time to catch the second before it fell. The third, the fourth, the fifth, she managed to catch those, but they came too fast, and she had to set her bowl down, earning Lia's attention. She lamely pretended to be trying to get something out of her eye.

"Emily?" Lia asked, voice tinged with worry.

Then, as if she just broke, Emily covered her face as the tears began streaming down, and her body was assaulted by silent sobs.

"Oh sweetie…" Lia cooed, moving closer to her friend, and wrapping her arms around her frame as it jumped with sobs.

Lia had never actually seen Emily cry, not even once. The negotiator at times seemed to be built of steal, and hadn't even let a tear fall when Tobin Jensen was turning her life into a living hell. Emily had admitted to her once that she'd broken down for a few minutes in Mexico, when she thought they were going to die. This was new for her, and somewhat unexpected, even under the circumstances.

* * *

**Day Two**

Cheryl watched Matt from her the doorway of her office. It was still early and she was actually shocked he'd made it in on time, let alone made it in at all. She'd gone to Sloan's last night, knowing she'd find her favorite trio wasted to the point where'd they'd all be praying to the porcelain god at some point that night. As it turned out Matt had managed to surpass being even that drunk, and had managed to get himself vomiting in Sloan's men's room before eight.

Frank and Duff were pretty drunk, but still sober enough so she could ream them out for letting him get that drunk. They'd rushed to defend themselves, blaming his broken heart and need for a drink to quench it. That made her even more irate, and she'd yelled at them for encouraging him to drink away Emily's absence. It wasn't a healthy way to begin grieving the loss of a relationship.

Now the man in question was parked at his desk, on his third cup of coffee, a bottle of water nearby, and what was left of a travel case of Advil. His eyes were severely bloodshot, but otherwise he seemed to be fine. He was, or appeared to be, focused on his paperwork, typing away at this keyboard as if he was actually doing it. She didn't believe for a second that it would actually be coherent, but he seemed so focused on it.

Her attention was diverted by his partner arriving, looking surprisingly worse than he did. Emily's eyes were slightly bloodshot, but more importantly red and puffy, as if she'd been the one having a rough night. She dropped her bag, and flopped into her seat, the red chair, choosing to rest her hand in her hands rather than actually begin any work. Matt snuck a glance at her, but went quickly back to his typing.

Cheryl turned her attention from the couple, just as Emily was pulling out folders from her bag, apparently collected enough to begin working. She needed to talk to Lia, who she knew was with Emily last night, enjoying the traditional post break-up girl night. As she marched to the Intelligence room, she saw the analyst through the window, noticing that she didn't look worse for the wear.

"Lia, I need a minute with you." The analyst turned at her name, and followed Cheryl to a vacant corner of the room.

"What's going on?"

"Were you drinking last night?"

"What? Why?"

"With Emily, were you two drinking?"

"No, we had ice cream. Alcohol is a bad idea coming out of a break-up." Lia was growing confused.

"Then why does she look like hell?"

"She does?" Lia hadn't seen her yet.

"Yeah, she looks worse than Matt, and he was throwing up at Sloan's last night before eight." She said matter-of-factly.

Lia's eyes went wide, "god how much did he drink?"

"Enough so that he was probably bordering on alcohol poisoning."

"Jesus, they are not handling this well."

"Thank you Sherlock, now what happened last night with Emily? Do you think she started drinking after you left?"

Lia shook her head vehemently. "No, nothing like that. She uh…" Lia glanced around the room, concerned about prying ears. She pulled Cheryl father into the corner, and kept her voice lower. "She spent half the night crying, sobbing actually."

Cheryl cringed, "I've never seen her cry."

"Me neither until last night, and it was just heartbreaking. She stopped at one point long enough to tell me that she was in love with him."

"Great…" What was she going to do with them now?

"Have either of them said anything to you?"

"What, about wanting new partners?"

Lia nodded.

"No, not a word. But, if they keep this up I won't have a choice."

* * *

But, Matt and Emily proved their friends wrong that day, and were completely civil towards each other. In fact they were bordering on normal. They traded notes, and discussed parts of the case they were writing up, but someone familiar with the two could tell that something was wrong. The _only _time they spoke was when they were discussing a case, their chairs remained a good distance apart, they didn't flirt or find excuses to touch each other, didn't go to lunch together, and barely looked at each other. 

However, it was a marked improvement that they were in the same room together. After their conversation the day before Matt had disappeared to the shooting range and Emily to her classroom, though she only had one class. Today, they seemed like partners that were having an off day, as if they'd just had a hard case and weren't up to conversation. But, not a couple having an off day, not lovers that had been so close days before, one would have thought they'd been together for years rather than just months.

Later that afternoon, Matt was still staring at this computer, typing up reports. In fact, he'd been staring at the screen so long, he was about halfway to being blind. Normally, he would have taken several breaks, to catch up with the guys, grab coffee, but most often to turn to the side and distract Emily from her work. They would engage in shameless flirting sessions regularly throughout the day, but still somehow manage to get all their paperwork done. Nobody, including them, could seem to figure this out.

But, today he avoided any breaks, knowing it would be too easy to turn to the side and fall back into flirting with Emily. He wanted it too much to risk taking his eyes off that screen for a minute. He'd come close to losing his mind forcing his eyeballs to be glued to that screen, with Emily a foot away. The only time he turned was ask or answer a question about a case, and thrn thry didn't even really look at each other, just kept their eyes on their paperwork. Fortunately, the woman that was the cause of his torture fled for lunch just after one o'clock, and Matt wasted no time before pulling his face away from the screen.

He rubbed his face, and stretched, feeling stiff after five hours in the same position. As he leaned back, yawning from the slow morning, he caught a glimpse of something shiny, reflecting the light from under it's tent of papers. The stack was by Emily's computer, undoubtedly the a trees worth of paper on one of their cases. Looking to make sure she wasn't coming back, he reach underneath and pulled out a gold object. A laugh bubbled up in his throat at seeing the fake ring.

He'd thought she'd lost it the night he gave it to her, one of the many night that they never made it to the bedroom. What was she doing with the ring here? Today, two days after they broke up? He turned it over with his fingers, momentarily lost in the memories the gold and red plastic churned up. Did this mean that she missed him? Did she regret breaking up? He felt hope well up inside him, but quickly beat it down. As far as he could tell, she was dealing just fine. She didn't need him anymore, didn't love him anymore. He swallowed down a lump in his throat. Get a grip man; she was just a woman- plenty of fish in the sea, and all that.

"Yo, Matt, how's the hangover?" Frank startled him; he palmed the ring, not risking his friend seeing him with a little girls toy.

"Fine," he shrugged.

"Now how does that work, you were in bad shape last night?" After admonishing them, Cheryl had waited for a break to come between Matt's puking bouts before driving him home just before nine. Frank and Duff had stayed at Sloan's.

"After I stopped vomiting around eleven, I passed out for a few hours, and woke up again around three dying for a drink. Nothing blocks a hangover better than water." He smiled, pleased with the trick he'd learned in college.

"Lucky bastard, Duff and me were fighting over the aspirin stash downstairs this morning."

"Well, I might have traded a hangover for the puking. Nothing is worse than spending four hours with your head in a toilette."

"And _that_ is why I stopped drinking like that after I hit thirty," he laughed. "What do you say we grab lunch?"

"Sounds good." Matt agreed, tucking the little ring in his pocket, Emily probably wouldn't miss it anyway.

* * *

Emily returned to her desk an hour later, thrilled beyond belief to find Matt wasn't there. The muted tension was difficult to ignore, and the urge to touch him, to even look at him was harder now that she couldn't. A week ago, keeping her hands off him wouldn't have been an issue, simply because she knew she would have free reign when they went home. Now they weren't going home together, or going to Sloan's together. They weren't even talking to each other, and kept themselves busy with work. 

She shook her head, trying to shake all thoughts of Matt out, as if that were even possible. Instead she swallowed and began shifting through her papers, trying to remember what she'd been working on. Oh, yeah, that's right. She'd hadn't really been working so much as she was zoning out as she played with that little ring. Wait, where was the ring? It wasn't under the papers, where she was sure she'd left it before meeting Lia for lunch. God knows if the analyst had seen her with that toy, she would have slapped some sense into her. Her emotional breakdown last night made it pretty clear that she wasn't handling this break-up well.

But, the ring wasn't where she left it. She plowed through the papers, while wondering how anybody could actually think she would or should handle it well. It was more than just another break-up, just another failed relationship. Matt was more. Damn it, where was that ring? She began tossing papers into her lap, binders and books following suit. There was no trace of the ring anywhere. Had Matt found it? But, if he did, why would he take it? No, it must have just gotten lost in some new crevice. It was gone, just like everything she and Matt had together. Damn it.

Shaking her head dejectedly, she turned back to her work, looking forward to not thinking about Matt for a few more hours. Lia had watched her like a nervous mother all through lunch, as if she was waiting for her to dissolve into tears again. But, she was fine. She'd be fine. It was over, it was best that she adapt to that idea now, rather than later. It's over Emily, she told herself. Everything you felt for Matt, everything you felt between the two of you, it's dead now, she calmly reminded herself. He doesn't love you anymore, get that through your head, she admonished herself, after the calm reminder failed. She had to come to terms with that now, later might just be too painful.

* * *

_Here's the first chapter squinter, hope you liked it. I think the characters might be a little off with the characters on this one; I can't seem to get a grip on their characters when they're not together. Just goes to show they should be! FYI: The next chapter is going to skip a few days ahead. Otherwise, thanks for reading and please review!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Day Five**

Stop it, stop it, stop it now! Matt scolded himself firmly, as he caught himself checking out his partner for the dozenth time over the last three days. It didn't matter that they'd broken up, or that she may very well hate him, she was still a beautiful woman. A beautiful woman that sat less than two feet from him in their small cubicle, which seemed to be growing smaller. Even worse, he knew how truly beautiful she could be. He knew every inch of her body: he could hear her giggle just by allowing his fingers to dance down along her abdomen, that her fingers would dig deeper into his hair and she'd let out a soft moan if he placed delicate little butterfly kisses along her collar bone, and he knew just which spot to hit to have her screaming his name. Even more difficult is that he knew she was even more beautiful on the inside: if held her hand and sat quietly, she'd eventually tell him what was bothering her; she could stare for hours watching LA twinkle at night, and when she bit her lip and grew suddenly shy, he loved her even more. What made it completely impossible for him to just sit there, and not get down on his hands and knees and beg for her back, was that he knew he was the only man she'd ever pleasured with those three little words.

It was all of these and so much more that eventually convinced Matt that he was still hopelessly in love with the woman, and that this seeing each other every day thing wasn't going to work so well. Not when every time he tried to get some work done, he drifted off imagining moments they shared, imagining her smile, which he hadn't seen since they'd broken up Monday. At least he hadn't seen one, and he was generally pretty good at picking them up. The woman haunting his thoughts was bending down a bit to grab her bag, giving Matt an excellent view of her ass. And, turned her head, just in time to see him enjoying the view. Oh, thank god the day is over.

Pretending that he hadn't been checking out her ass, Matt thrust his head back as his computer, ignoring Emily as she finished packing up. Finally, minutes later, she walked away toward the elevators, leaving him in his misery. They were both acting as if there were no problems between them, as if their relationship had meant nothing; it was just that easy to get over. At least for him that was nothing but lies, and some seriously Oscar caliber acting. He shoved things around his desk, hostility leaking from his pores, trying to make his workspace neat before leaving for the night.

"Don't go anywhere Matt, we've got a crisis. I just called Emily, she's one her way back up."

"Great." He sighed, collapsing back on the chair he'd just vacated. Well, on the bright side, at least he'd have a negotiation to distract him from her.

* * *

Emily wasn't thrilled about getting called back in either. She was finally free from their tiny cubicle, which she was irrationally convinced, was shrinking by the minute. She knew Matt had been sneaking glances at her all day, because she'd been doing the same to him. And, boy, did she ever feel his eyes on her as she left, enjoying the view of her jeans-clad ass. How was she supposed to work with that? When she knew he wanted to feel her body as badly as she wanted to feel his? It was like foreplay that had to be drawn out to the point of torture, and was never to be consumated. As, the elevator dinged to her floor, she straightened herself, and hoped that she didn't appear as frustrated as she was. 

"Okay people, listen up. I need everybody's heads in this one," Cheryl announced as Emily walked into the conference room, taking the only available seat- right next to Matt.

"Our HT is 23 year-old Richard House. His girlfriend, Sandra Kauffman, whom he has hostage, broke up with him a week ago, and let's just say Rich isn't handling it…at all. He is holding Sandra, her mother Agatha, her 17 year-old brother Michael and his best friend Andrew Calagarie at gun point in their home in East LA. Are their any questions before we head out?"

She received several headshakes from those that weren't already engrossed in the briefing.

"Good let's go. Lia, you're coming on this one. You'll work your magic from the bus." Lia's eyebrows shot up, she could easily handle this one from the office, why did Cheryl need her?

Her boss motioned her over, apparently already aware she would need to explain that.

"It's their first situation since they broke up, if they get hostile with each other, I need you to talk Emily's head back on her, Frank will handle Matt."

"If you're worried about this, should they really be in the field together?" Lia raised an eyebrow in a skeptical look.

"I'd rather try to make this work, than just give up on my best team. Besides, they seemed to be okay the past few days, they deserve a chance." Nevertheless, Cheryl sent up a silent prayer that things would go well.

One of the negotiators in question was on her way back down to the garage, reading the briefing in the elevator. She hadn't been happy when she got that call, and after finding out who their HT was, she was even less happy. A guy who'd just broken up with his girlfriend? Isn't that nice. Matt would have to be primary on this one, it was too good an opportunity to pass up. He could commiserate, though she doubted that, no matter how strongly Matt felt for her, he was emotionally disturbed enough to take hostages. Regardless, if she got on the phone with the guy, it could set him off. Chances were that he was feeling pretty pissed a women in general right then.

She was so lost in her thoughts that moments later she realized she'd already been driving for ten minutes. Then she noticed her briefing had vanished; likely her own fault for leaving it just sitting on top of her bag. She began fishing around in the car for it, glancing down every now and again when traffic was stopped. But, after a few minutes she got frustrated and allowed her eyes to wander over, searching for the paper. Finally, she located it stuck between the seat and console, and looked up just in time to slam down on her breaks. Oh, shit, shit, shit…there was a car right in front of her, and she cringed as she felt the little bump that said she'd tapped it.

Then it got worse, and it became clear to Emily that if there was a god, he was pissed at her in a real bad way. The car in front of hers was Matt's. It was just a tap, she told herself, he shouldn't get too worked up. She was close enough to see him look in his rearview mirror, not pleased at all. Then his expression changed to one of complete confusion, before morphing to one that added to her misery. The poor bastard actually looked hurt, as if he thought she'd purposely struck his bumper. Their relationship hadn't ended _that_ badly. This, this was going to be a whole lotta fun.

* * *

What the hell? Somebody just rear-ended him, well, maybe not rear-ended. They'd hit his bumper, or rather Emily had…what? He stared into his rearview, confused as can be. Was she trying to get his attention? No, she had a cell phone, if it was important enough to play a round of bumper cars, than she could use that. Then he had another thought: was she that mad at him? Was it possible that she'd been hurt enough, had grown to hate him enough to want to smack into his car? Traffic began moving again, ripping him from his thoughts long enough for his eyes to focus back on the road. It hadn't been hard enough to suggest hate or anger though…was it just an accident? What were the odds? Trying to drown out the thoughts, Matt flipped on the radio. 

"…_I know it isn't true_  
_Love is just a lie,  
Made to make you blue  
Love hurts, ooh,ooh love hurts…"_

Christ, he thought, you've got to be kidding; that was not what he needed to be hearing at that moment. He flipped the dial, silencing Nazareth.

_"…Don't deny me - this pain I'm going through  
Please forgive me - if I need ya like I do  
Please believe me - every word I say is true  
Please forgive me - I can't stop loving you…"_

And that isn't even funny, he thought flipping again to get rid of Bryan Adams singing his heart out about loving someone too much.

"…_Love bites, love bleeds - it's bringin' me to my knees  
Love lives, love dies - it's no surprise  
Love begs, love pleads - it's what I need…"_

"Shut up!" He hollered at the radio's presumption, shutting it off before it could blast anymore shattered love songs. He knew love sucked, he felt it too readily himself to be able to listen to Def Leppard's high pitched vocalist sing about it in an eighties power ballad.

It wouldn't have really mattered anyway, he realized as he pulled over against the car, one of a mishmash of police cruisers and FBI vehicles.

"Alright, which one of you is Primary?" Cheryl asked as her negotiators approached, eyes never drifting towards each other, expressions nothing less than hostile.

"Me."

"Matt." Both answered quickly, both looking slightly surprised that they actually agreed.

"Okay, make the call." Matt nodded to Cheryl first, then at Lia after he had his earpiece in, who tapped a few fingers along her keyboard, and instantly had the phone dialing into the house.

"Hello?" A frightened woman answered, her voice shaky.

"Hi, I'm Matt, I work for the FBI, is this Sandra or Agatha?"

"I'm Agatha, Sandra is my daughter."

"Great, can you tell me how everyone is in there?"

"We're okay."

"Good, that's very good…I need to talk to Rich now, can you pass him the phone?" Matt waited while she did as he asked.

"Yeah, what?" A young man's voice demanded rudely.

"Hey there Rich, my name is Matt. I'm a crisis negotiator with the FBI."

"Yeah, well there's no damn crisis here!"

"Well Rich, you've got a gun pointed at four people in there, they might argue that point with you." Matt rolled his eyes, why is it they always thought taking hostages is a perfectly normal thing to do?

"There's no crisis, I just- just needed to talk to Sandy."

"Okay, I understand that, break-ups are hard, but do you really think this is the best way to do that?"

"She wouldn't listen to me any other way!" Rich shouted pitifully.

"Alright, easy now. Have you uh, told her what it is you feel you need to tell her so badly?"

"No, she still won't listen to me!"

"You think maybe that's because she's terrified right now?"

"What! She's knows I'd never hurt her!" Rich wasn't becoming any calmer, though he had changed from pissed to kind of whiny.

"Uh Rich? The gun, that kind of suggests otherwise…" Matt rolled his eyes again, and turned to Cheryl, who held up her hands with a smirk: her signal that he was doing just fine communicating with the idiot.

"I just want her attention!" He yelled angrily.

"So, how about releasing a hostage, make her feel a little more comfortable?"

"Okay, Andy can go. Get out of here man!" They heard him shout at the kid, and a moment later a frightened teenager ran out of the house into the arms of HRT.

"That was a very good thing to do Rich, now how about you tell me what you need to say. She'll listen."

"I don't know, I don't think she will."

"She sees that you don't want to hurt her anymore, trust me, she'll listen."

Rich was silent for several minutes, before suddenly blurting, "I love her, man. Do you know what that's like? Not being able to talk to, to see, to touch the woman you love?"

Now it was Matt's turn to be silent, Emily's head turned sharply to look at him, wondering what he'd say. Cheryl and Lia watched nervously from the bus; this was one of those things Cheryl had worried about potentially setting them off.

"We're not talking about me, Rich." Matt finally answered, dodging the question altogether, not that whiny Rich noticed.

"She doesn't care that I love her. She says it doesn't matter, that we have no future together. She says she doesn't love me." He sounded increasingly pitiful as he spoke.

"That's really sad Rich, but you can't really force her to love you, can you?" And sometimes, love just isn't enough, Matt thought to himself.

"No, but I love her and that's all you're supposed to need, right? That's what they always say, when you find somebody you love that much, you don't let them go. I can't let her go…" Rich continued to whine in what essentially became a three-hour long session of post-breakup depression talk that was typically reserved for a few shots and a sympathetic bar tender.

"…but, if you found a woman that you were completely crazy about, to the point where you were excited just to wake up, because you knew she'd be there in you arms, could you really just let go?"

Matt sighed, "we're not talking about me Rich." He'd been giving this standard line consistently over the last hour, showing amazing restraint in not blurting things about his personal life. Emily would be proud, well, if they were still together she would be.

"Matt, just answer the damn question. You tell me honestly that if you found the woman you were completely in love with, you tell me you could let her walk away, and I'll lay this gun down and surrender." He issued the challenge to the negotiator, figuring if Matt could do it, he'd seriously consider that maybe he should too.

But, Matt was silent. He couldn't figure out what to say. A big part of him wanted to say no, when you find love like that, you hold onto it until you're dead. Another part knew he should lie, and tell Rich what he needed to hear to end this.

Emily literally stopped breathing, while Matt stood quietly thinking. Oh god, what was he going to say? She subconsciously began nibbling on her lower lip, her eyes darting nervously anywhere except Matt.

Cheryl closed her eyes the minute Rich made that demand, a sad resignation washing over her. If they couldn't get through one negotiation with both coming out whole and unscathed, then their partnership was effectively dead.

"Yeah, I could." Matt's voice seemed so loud to those waiting nervously for answer that it seemed to be on echoing from a thousand speakers. "If that was what she needed, I could walk away."

Cheryl's tense expression softened at the admission and she watched him sadly. Emily, her lip still between her teeth, swallowed, and studied the floor as if it was the Sunday _New York Times_ crossword. The honesty in his voice was heartbreaking, though seemingly lost on Rich.

"I don't believe you. You're just saying that to get me to surrender."

"I've done it!" Matt practically shouted at the kid, suddenly angry and bitter; whine in his ear for hours, that's fine, but don't presume to know what he'd suffered through.

"Tell me about her," Rich requested thoughtfully.

"No, you keep up your end of the bargain. I gave you an honest answer, you have to come out here, and drop that gun." Matt had had enough of this, it was time to end it, time to stop beating this dead horse.

Rich didn't answer, but there was a click on the end of the phone, and he walked out onto the porch and dropped his weapon, allowing HRT to take him without a struggle.

Matt and Emily stood awkwardly, waiting for some direction from Cheryl. Their job was essentially done.

"You can both go, briefing tomorrow morning." She wasn't going to keep them in this perpetual awkwardness.

Matt practically ran to his car, needing so desperately to leave and not be in Emily's presence. It was too damned hard. That negotiation wasn't the only dead horse he was beating without a chance in hell of killing it more.

As he started the engine he flicked the radio back on, in more need of a distraction than he'd ever been in his life.

"_I should have seen it coming when roses died  
Should have seen the end of summer in your eyes  
I should have listened when you said good night  
You really meant good bye…"_

Matt groaned at the lyrics, "Damn it! Somebody just shoot me!"

* * *

_"…Baby, ain't it funny, how you never ever learn to fall  
You're really on your knees, when you think you're standing tall  
But only fools are know-it-alls and I played that fool for you…"_

Emily had the same song playing in her car as she drove off, mind racing as Bon Jovi played in the background. This still being partners thing really wasn't working for them, not in the slightest. And this whole, not being able to crawl into bed with him every night, thing? If she was completely honest with herself, she'd admit that wasn't working so well either. She missed him. She saw him everyday, sat less than two feet from him for eight hours a day, but god help her, she missed him more than she'd ever missed anybody.

"_Baby, I thought you and me would stand the test of time  
Like we got away with the perfect crime but  
We were just a legend in my mind, I guess that I was blind  
Remember those nights dancing at the masquerade  
The clowns wore smiles that wouldn't fade  
You and I were the renegades, some things never change"_

She snorted as she caught some of the song's lyrics; how is it the radio always knows the worst song to play when you're already depressed? She was so sure they would last, so sure this one would be different. She was sure enough to tell him that she loved him. But, of course, life wasn't that easy. Just because you love someone, doesn't mean you're meant to be with them. But, still with Matt…She felt her throat catch in her throat, and her chest felt heavy as she struggled against tears she could feel coming.

"_It made me so mad cause I wanted it bad for us baby  
Now its so sad that whatever we had, ain't worth saving  
If the love that I got for you is gone  
If the river I've cried ain't that long  
Then I'm wrong, yes I'm wrong, this ain't a love song_

She swiped at a tear as it slipped down her cheek, and went to catch the next as it fell. But her motions were only half-hearted. These weren't the pained, heartbroken tears she'd shed that night with Lia; these were filled with resignation. It was over. They were over. What they'd had, love or not, wasn't strong enough to keep them together. And, that was what really hurt, because Emily had let herself believe in it. She'd happily given him more of herself than she'd ever given anybody, and it had been for nothing. An ache settled in her stomach at the realization- this sick, painful feeling that felt akin to someone reaching inside her body and twisting around her stomach.

"I cried and I cried  
There were nights that I died for you baby  
I tried and I tried to deny that your love drove me crazy

If the love that I got for you is gone  
If the river I cried ain't that long  
Then I'm wrong, yeah I'm wrong - this ain't no love song

Emily shut off the song before it could continue, not up to listening to rest of the depressing ballad. She took a slow, deep breath in, and released it just as slowly, stopping the flow of tears trickling slowly from her eyes. She focused herself on driving, hoping something benign would soothe the pain in her gut. Ten minutes later she pulled into the driveway of her building, and steeled herself for another night without Matt.

Inside she threw her bag down, tossed her keys on the kitchen counter, and went right to the shower. She allowed the hot water to soothe her tired body, feeling it twist over her muscles, easing the tension from them. In her bedroom she searched for clothing, her attention falling on a button down shirt sitting on top of her dresser. Matt's. The deep blue colored shirt had been left on her floor, a token of how much she did enjoy seeing him in a button down, rare as it was. She remembered actually being surprised it still had all it's buttons attached, when she found it the next day. They had been that eager.

Against her better, more rational judgment, she slipped it on, immediately surrounded by a familiar musky sent. It fell just past her butt, and she had to roll the sleeves up to get them above her hands. Under the circumstances it was undoubtedly one of the worst things she could do, but god help her, it was what she needed. And inexplicably, that sore feeling in her gut dissipated the tiniest bit. Now, she should probably see about dinner. It was just after ten o'clock, she didn't want anything big. Then she remembered the ice cream Lia brought- the perfect meal for her current state.

A knock sounded on her door around 10:30, and disregarding her current attire of only Matt's shirt and panties, she looked through the peephole. Lia stood outside, looking quite anxious. Unlocking the door, and removing the chain, she pulled open the door to reveal the worried analyst. Lia smiled, before taking in her friend's attire, and then her brow furrowed, and lips fell to a straight line. But, she walked in and allowed Emily to shut the door first, before speaking.

"Matt's shirt?" It was clear from her tone that she felt this wasn't a good idea.

"Don't say it," Emily warned her, knowing perfectly well, she was making things more difficult for herself.

"Emily…" Her trailed off, tinged with disappointment.

"Don't Lia." Lia took in the exhaustion and pain in her eyes, and decided to leave it alone.

"Well, I just came by to check on you, you know after that negotiation…it couldn't have been easy."

Emily shrugged, as if to say it was nothing. Heartbreak and the ache of emotional pain were nothing new to her; she'd had more than her share over the years. And, had this been just another of those times, she could have gotten through it and actually felt the 'whatever' she suggested in her shrug. But this…this was so much worse. This put the same sick feeling, same twisted, bitter pain in her belly that she felt the day she found out what happened to Ally, when she was ten years old.

"Emily you can't stand there and pretend it was nothing, that it didn't hurt, when you're wearing his shirt." Lia pointed out her contradiction.

Emily didn't speak for several minutes, then her eyes blank and unfocused, she finally opened her mouth. "It's over Lia…just like that…it's over."

* * *

_Wow, I have to say I was really surprised with how popular this story turned out to be, and thrilled to say the least. Anyway, I'm thinking two more chapters, the next chapter set after they had sex in the bus, and the last to pick up where the finale left off. Thanks for reading everyone, and thank you very much to my reviewers!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Day Nine**

Emily was nothing less than pissed as she slammed the sliding door on the little cubicle they'd just had sex in. Break-up sex? Break-up sex was all it was to him? She was so mad, so…so…damn it, so pissed she couldn't bloody think! But, so, so very happy he never let her finish what she was saying about their activities. What they did was so stupid, not because she didn't want it, but for so many other reasons.

One, they were on the job, two it was essentially at the office, three half their coworkers were swarming around outside, and four their boss was among them. The other three were stupid for reasons relating to their relationship. Five, they were broken up, six they were still partners, and the last reason why their rendezvous in the bus was so unimaginably stupid, was that they were both hurting, and having sex when they hadn't worked anything out would just end up hurting them more. The fact that she was ready to blow her top was proof of that.

God, what they hell were they fucking thinking? Oh, right, they weren't thinking, not even a tiny bit. It was her own fault she supposed, she initiated physical contact with him. But, oh Jesus, Mary, Joseph and every Saint that she'd never learned, just feeling his hand touching her after nine days without it was just so damn good. It was like getting the tiniest hit of a drug after you'd tried to quit, and trying to resist that was just not going to happen. And, being able to touch him after withholding so long, feeling his hands over her body, being in his arms again, and feeling him moving inside her; it was some of the best sex she'd ever experienced.

Her mind was reeling as she arrived back at the CNU, and made a beeline for the Analysis room, badly in need of her confidant. Though she half expected Lia to slap her when she told what she did, god knew she probably needed it. Lia was busily typing away at her computer, organizing the information they'd used at the negotiation today and closing up her files.

"Hey Lia," she greeted, her voice coming out harsh.

"Hey, you don't sound to happy…" Lia studied her friend, who at the moment was putting out such strong hostility vibes, she was making the rest of the analysts nervous. "Uh, give me a second."

Emily nodded, and let her gaze wander the room while she waited for Lia.

"Okay, let's go, we obviously need to talk." The two women walked through the CNU to an infrequently used conference room.

Emily crashed into a chair, the weight of her disastrous personal life weighing heavily on her.

"Okay, before you say anything, was that fight actually planned?"

"Uh, no not really. We discussed using it as a last resort, but no, that was really us losing it during a negotiation."

"Well, so long as Cheryl doesn't find out, I'm sure you'll be fine."

"No, it's over Lia. We can't keep doing this anymore. _I _can't do this anymore." Her gaze drifted to the floor.

"Emily? Did something else happen?" The negotiator wasn't looking as pissed anymore, now hurt was written across her face.

"You know that little room in the back of the bus, with the sliding door?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Lia could see this was going somewhere she wasn't going to like.

"Did you know that, that door locks?" Emily struggled to admit what happened, settling for delaying it.

"I didn't no…Emily just tell me what happened, did you two argue again."

The negotiator's eyes became unfocused and she seemed to drift off slightly. "No, we didn't argue…we had sex."

Lia's eyes bugged out in shock, and she sputtered, "You, you-wait-you what?!"

"We had sex in that little room with half of HRT and Cheryl only a few feet away." Emily tuned back into the conversation, her eyes focusing again on Lia.

"Oh no, Emily! Why?!" Lia looked completely appalled, though thought Emily, at least she didn't smack her.

"If I could tell you that Lia, I would."

"Oh god sweetie, why would you ever do that? You were doing so good." Emily hadn't seemed as despressed the last few days; in fact, that night Lia found her wearing Matt's shirt had been her last really difficult night.

"Have you ever been in love Lia? Really been in love?"

Lia shook her head; she hadn't felt that yet, though a certain HRT agent was working hard to sweep her off her feet. She might have to amend her answer in the future.

"They say there is only a few drugs that cause withdrawal that can be fatal. They are just so addictive to your body that it can't handle being without them, not cold turkey anyway. And when you get the opportunity to sample them again, you just can't resist it. You're body won't allow you. That is what it's like with Matt. When I felt his hand on me, I couldn't not push it further; I couldn't pass up the chance to be with him again. I just didn't have the willpower to turn and walk out of that room. And I bet we would still have had sex if there was no lock on that door."

Lia stared at her, trying to comprehend the description she was given, in the end she settled for replying with a joke. "Now why don't chick flicks ever mention that part? More women might not be so desperate to find it."

Emily shook her head. "It's worth it, Lia. And, I have to tell you, that was some of the best sex I ever had."

Lia didn't look entirely convinced. This is the woman that two years ago, wouldn't have even entertained the idea, she was so by the rules. Now this woman was confessing to having sex with her partner on the bus, five minutes after a negotiation, with their boss and half of their coworkers outside the door. It was as if Emily didn't care about getting caught. Lia worried that Emily's drug analogy might not be too far off, and it seemed the negotiator had plunged off the wagon, not unwillingly.

* * *

Matt didn't know what papers he had scattered as he thrust his arm across the room, and he didn't particularly care either. All he knew is that hearing Emily declare with such conviction that what they'd done was so unforgivably stupid, was as good as her telling him she didn't love him anymore. Really, how could being with her ever be stupid? Granted, the location wasn't exactly the best for what they did, or the timing, or their two-dozen coworkers swarming around, but he would have been happy to deal with any consequences, if just for the chance to be with her. As if he even had a choice.

Sure, he'd been angry, furious even, because ending a relationship that extraordinary hurt like hell. But more importantly, seeing her everyday was like suffering through the archaic tortures of the Inquisition. And, pain like that just doesn't go away with a couple of aspirin, or even a bottle full, it says with you like malaria. The only thing he could do to ensure his sanity was channel that pain into anger. That's what he'd done the last few days, and it had been working just fine…until she touched him.

Exactly how was he supposed to resist that? There was no way that was going to happen. The endings of his nerves sensed her touch immediately, knew the breast beating beneath his fingers were hers. It was as if the little microscopic sensors had felt fire; they flared and sent the alert to his brain in less than a nanosecond. That sent his whole body tingling and jumping inside itself, hyper-excited at the thought of getting what it thought it never would again. Before he even had a chance to think about it, one hand was in her hair, the other up the back of her shirt, caressing her back, and he was inside her, as he held her pinned against the wall.

"Hey Matt, you alright?" Duff peered into the little room at him, noticing he'd seemingly zoned out.

"Huh? Oh, yeah fine." He quickly pretended to be busy cleaning up papers.

"Are we going to need to stop at Sloan's again tonight?" To nights of drinking over a woman was unprecedented for them, but Duff had a feeling they'd be lucky getting away with _only _two this time.

"Bad idea Duff," Frank warned, walking up to join their conversation.

Duff looked at him curiously, since when was Frank against drinking heartache away?

"Do you want to face Cheryl after she finds him puking in the men's room again?" She'd been pissed enough at them the first time, a second time could get very ugly.

"Hmm, good point…Blue Monday is over by his apartment," he gestured to Matt.

"Good man," Frank grinned at Duff's solution- another bar, two blocks from Matt's apartment, and unlikely spot for Cheryl to go looking.

"It's alright. I can't go and get wasted every time she makes me crazy," he waved off their offer.

"Why not?" Frank demanded jokingly.

"Because then I'd be drunk 24/7."

"What's wrong with that?" Duff asked with a teasing grin, causing Frank to chuckle.

Matt rolled his eyes at them, and continued throwing his stack of papers together.

* * *

Cheryl titled her neck from side to side, trying to crack it, or at least ease some of the tension she felt causing it to stiffen up. She had just gotten back from the scene, and rather than go right to the office, she stopped in the Starbucks on the first floor for coffee. Sure their coffee always tasted burnt, and way too strong, but it could wake up a dying man. God knows she needed that today. Their crisis began just after seven this morning, and lasted almost until noon. That was all bad enough, but her bigger concern was Matt and Emily.

They seemed to be doing okay after that very difficult Tuesday, not great, but as well as two people could be expected to do after such a sudden breakup. They weren't really talking, but had been less tense around each other the last few days. It didn't feel as though something was about to explode from their cubicle anymore, more like a lit dynamite stick that fizzled out. Only now it appeared that she assumed that stick was burnt out too quickly, because that fight certainly relit it. It _could _have only been acting in their roles as negotiators, but it didn't really feel that way.

She sighed as she ripped open two sugar packets and let the granules dissolve in her coffee, before adding a third. She'd just picked up a carton of creamer, when voices drifted over to her ears.

"Yeah, they broke up, how did you not manage to hear about that yet?" Trish Green, an agent with Narcotics asked in shock.

"I've been in the field for the last two weeks. What the hell happened, they were one of the happiest couples I've ever seen?" Brian Wallace of VICAP asked, as incredulously as Trish.

"I know, I know, they were always in Sloan's together, and always seemed so happy with each other…" She trailed off, lost in disbelief.

"So then what happened between them Trish?"

She shrugged, "no one seems to know. All I've heard is that it had something to due with that thing over at the kiddie prison. But, you know, the people who would know aren't talking. Everybody has been nagging Lia, but she won't say a word, not to confirm, deny, or obfuscate."

"Then it has to be bad…and you said that Matt was in Sloan's last Tuesday puking his guts out?"

"Yeah, he was in bad shape, but Sherrie said that Emily looked like hell Wednesday. I don't know about that though, I was in court."

They were both shaking their heads sadly. And Cheryl rolled her eyes as she heard them discussing her friends as if they actually knew them and gave a damn outside of gossip material. She was tempted to 'accidentally' spill her coffee on them.

"See, I told you sleeping with you partner is a bad idea, Cheryl should have broken them up a long time ago. Now, she's going to have this mess to deal with." Brian certainly seemed to have his opinions on how she should run things.

"Yeah, but I could see why she didn't. Washington loves them together, they're two of the best negotiators in the country. That's a hard call to make, Brian."

"Oh, who are you kidding? She didn't break them up, because she's buddies with Flannery. They were partners for five years, it was a bad idea to keep him under her command."

Cheryl had had about as much of their gossip as she could take, and was about to take her coffee and walk out, but his next words stopped her.

"You know, one good thing did come out of this-- Lehman's single again," he grinned, under the impression that, that meant he could ask her out.

"You don't think, she'll need a little time to get over Matt?" Trish scolded him.

"I don't think it was ever that serious, Matt's not the type. I bet you he was banging Cheryl when they were partners too, in fact he's probably still banging her, maybe that's why he and Emily ended it."

That was it, she decided this man needed a reality check. She picked her way gracefully around the table closest to her, and purposely walked by the table holding the Narcotics and VICAP agents. As she got behind Brian's chair, she 'accidentally' let her 'forgetfully' still open coffee cup tilt down in his direction. The stupid bastard yelped and leapt from his seat as the hot brown liquid rained over his shoulder and back. Cheryl pretended to fumble to right the cup, and uttered a curt, "oops, sorry," before walking out, tossing her cup in the trash by the door.

Brian and Trish watched her walk out, realizing she'd caught their whole conversation. The sopping t-shirt Brian pulled off his burnt skin all the proof they needed.

Cheryl shook her head as she walked out, angry that she felt the need to scald a coworker because he was being an ignorant, insensitive prick. Now, she'd have to get coffee from the CNU break room, and it would take twice as much of the weaker brew to get her to a happy place. She silently cursed the two agents. Damned idiots.

* * *

_This chapter is a little shorter, but that's because the episode waranted enough for two chapters. Also, sorry for the delay, I'm working a lot and packing up my apartment, so very little time to write. Anyway, thank you for reading, and for all the reviews, they've made me very, very happy!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Day 10**

"Mathers." Lia snatched her phone up mid ring, allowing her other hand to continue its dance across the keyboard.

"Lia, it's Cheryl. I need you in here now." Lia cringed, her boss did not sound happy.

"Sure, we have a crisis?" Was she going to be sent out on this one too?

"In a manner of speaking."

Lia rolled her eyes at Cheryl's cryptic response. "I'm on my way."

She finished typing her string of computer code, and pushed her chair away, wondering what was eating at Cheryl.

"So, what's going on?" Lia had checked on her way in, all the negotiators were seated with paperwork, looking rather bored, or miserable, as was the case of Matt and Emily.

"They just asked to be reassigned." Cheryl offered no hint or explanation of who 'they' was; Lia wouldn't have to guess.

"Oh shit. Why?" Lia grunted at her own stupid question and Cheryl's raised eyebrow.

"I'm going to ignore that…Lia, I don't know what to do. Part of me wants to give them the space they need from each other, part of me just wants to smack them."

"Okay…" Lia didn't quite follow her train of thought, or share her hostility.

"This is what I was afraid when they came in here and told me what was going on between them."

"Well, you can't really blame them, it isn't as if either on of them expected this to happen."

"It isn't just that. They were so damned good together, working and otherwise…" she gestured absently. "And god only knows what happened, I'm guessing something with kiddie prison, and now they can't seem to be around each other." Cheryl seemed to be venting off in her own world now; her speech was fast, almost frantic, her agitation clear.

Lia decided not to interrupt, but let her simply continue on whatever train of thought she was riding.

"And I told them- damn it, I told them to appreciate what they have, and then they just threw it away for an even stupider reason." She seemed to finally settle down, her eyes, which had since traveled, landed back on Lia.

"Stupider than what?" The analyst sat with her brow furrowed in confusion; she clearly missed whatever station the negotiator's thoughts stopped at.

"What?" Cheryl straightened, her guard drawing back around her; had she really said that out loud?

"Their reason, it's stupider than what?" Their conversation was getting weirder by the minute.

"Oh, nothing, just confused myself I guess."

"Liar, you were thinking of something, what was it?"

After a short silence, in which Cheryl cursed Lia's patience, she finally came clean, "Sam."

Lia's mouth formed an 'o', "stupider than what went wrong between you two."

"Yes."

"You never know, maybe it wasn't such a stupid reason," she suggested hopefully, not really believing it.

"What are the odds that something big enough happened between them to completely derail their relationship that wasn't completely asinine, that none of us know about?"

Lia shrugged helplessly.

"I'm just…I'm just disappointed that they let it all go so easily, and took down my best team with it."

"I'll talk to Emily. She hasn't said much besides that it's over, but I'll see what I can do."

"I uncomfortable…awkward doing this…" Cheryl didn't feel equipped to describe what it was they were doing, which she felt fell somewhere short of matchmaker, and she sure as hell didn't feel comfortable doing it. It wasn't a role she typically played; people's personal business was their own. But, desperate times and all.

Lia grinned, amused at Cheryl's awkwardness in their Yenta role.

* * *

"Wait a minute, you called him back?" Lia had chased Emily through the CNU bullpen after getting set-up for the negotiation, and dragged the negotiator back inside to a corner, where she could watch things and still get her friend to talk. 

"Yeah, we're having drinks tonight…at Sloan's." Emily focused on her cup of coffee pretending it wasn't a big deal.

"What! You're going to Sloan's?!"

"Yeah, so?"

"Oh Emily, that is just mean!" Lia had never known Emily to go out of her way to hurt anyone.

"What, it's a nice bar?"

"Yeah, in perfect proximity for you to torture your ex-boyfriend."

"Hey, he's the one that wants me to date."

"Oh, of course he doesn't!"

"He said he does Lia, it doesn't get more explicit than that."

"Yes, I know he did, but that's only because it's easier to pretend you're fine, than admit you're hurting."

"He seems to be doing just fine." If she stirred her coffee anymore it was libel to turn into a whirlpool and suck her down, which was kind of what she was hoping to happen.

"Then why was he at Sloan's puking his guts out Tuesday night?" Time to yank out the high caliber ammo.

"He was throwing up? Why? Is he sick?" Emily rattled of questions worriedly, before remembering that she 'didn't care.'

Lia grinned, "See, you still care about him."

Emily was about to protest, but gave up, Lia saw her sobbing and moping around in one of his shirts, it was be senseless to argue. "Obviously I still care Lia, love doesn't fade in a week."

"No, it doesn't. His didn't either, remember that."

"Then why does it feel like I'm the only one hurt from this?"

"Because break-ups are a bitch."

* * *

"Hey, you alright?" Jim McAllister, Matt's temporary new partner asked him, during a brief break in negotiations. His hostility was palpable. 

"Yeah, fine," Matt grumbled back, not happy with his new partner.

"Matt, you are not," Frank demanded, joining the conversation.

"Shut up Frank, I'm fine."

"No, you're pissed your girlfriend is having drinks with some corporate dick."

"_EX_, ex-girlfriend Rogers." Matt reminded him firmly.

"Yeah, well that cross you've been carrying around all week suggests otherwise. If we weren't in the middle of a negotiation, I'd tell you to go over there and kick his ass, make him see that the lady is already taken."

"I can't." If he did that, it would certainly appear a but hypocritical.

"Why the hell not? Emily might be a bit pissed at first, you know that whole pacifist thing she has going on, but she'll get over it once you take her to bed."

Matt rolled his eyes, Frank at his most vulgar. "I can't, because I'm the one that told her to go on the date."

"What? Why would you ever do that?"

"Because it's over, she's been pretty clear about that."

"Sorry to hear that. You know we get out of here soon, and you could still interrupt it? Where did they go anyway?"

"Sloan's." Matt's voice was barely audible.

"Seriously? Ouch."

"Wow, man she really is a bitch!" Duff exclaimed in half-serious shock over the line.

Frank rolled his eyes and let off a chuckle, predicting Matt's next words.

"Watch it Duff, I'll still fight you," the negotiator warned.

"And he'll still kill you in a fight, Matt." Frank was still laughing at the familiar dialogue, which he knew Duff initiated just to test the negotiator.

"So?" Matt offered him a self-deprecating half-grin; what that woman did to him.

"Man, you are pathetic, you're still in love with her." Frank had been hoping at this point that Matt would have started to get over her.

"Yes, I am."

McAllister had watched the exchange in complete confusion. Their words seemed hostile, but they all wore sad, little smiles of bittersweet amusement. He had obviously missed something, though he knew, as did everyone at the Bureau, about the recent issues that Matt and Emily were having. That wasn't enough to fill in the blanks though.

"Okay, you ready to make the next call?" Cheryl's voice came over the headsets, startling them all.

* * *

"So, am I uh, dropping you at your place, or are we going to mine?" Matt asked, maneuvering his car out of it's odd parking spot amongst their coworkers' vehicles. 

"Your place, we should talk." Her eyes didn't move from the window, she was almost afraid if she turned to look, he'd be gone, a figment her broken-hearted mind was desperately trying to dredge up.

"Yeah, we should."

Emily's phone rang, shattering the quiet of the car, and startling them both.

"Lehman."

"Winston." Alex Winston's playful voice answered back. Oh shit, thought Emily, she'd forgotten about that little complication.

"Oh, hey Alex." She cringed as she said his name out loud, and could sense Matt tense beside her.

"You left kind of abruptly, so I just wanted to check and see if everything's okay."

"Yeah fine, we just finished."

"No one hurt I hope?"

"Nope, except a room full of dolls." Now, how was she going to extricate herself from this conversation, and any further conversations with him.

"Dolls? What?"

"It's a long story." Matt tightened his grip on the wheel, desiring nothing more at the moment, than to snatch the phone from her hands, and explain to Alex Winston that Emily was unavailable, permanently.

"Oh okay, so uh I was hoping you might want to grab dinner sometime next week."

Emily cringed again, "You remember what I said about this not being a good time for me?"

"Uh oh."

"Yeah, I should have stuck with that. I'm sorry." She felt bad, she pretty much used him to piss Matt off.

"Is this about your ex?" After hearing her vent hours ago, Alex half-expected this.

"Yes, I don't really know what's going on, we're trying to figure that out."

"Well, uh, good luck then, I guess." He sound like luck was the last thing he wanted to offer her.

"Thanks…and sorry." She click the phone shut, feeling horrible.

Matt didn't waste a second before turning to her, and asking what he needed to know. "We _both_ want to try and figure things out right?"

Emily's deep frowned turned into a smile at the thought of Matt, "definitely."

"Great, glad we're on the same page."

"Me too." They settled into silence once again, Emily staring out her window, Matt out the windshield, neither mind really on what they were seeing.

"You didn't sleep with him, did you?" Matt suddenly blurted out.

"What? No, of course not; the date didn't even last an hour." Emily stared at him in disbelief.

"Did you kiss him?" He seemed less agitated by this question.

"No Matt, not one part of my body parts ever made contact with any of his."

He let out a breath in relief, "good, that's good."

"And you really weren't with anybody, right?" He'd dodged the question earlier, and it made her quite nervous.

"Just my stash of Playboys. Great reading material, you know?"

Emily's response was a wide grin, partly because he hadn't moved on either, but also at the teasing banter they'd seemed to pick up easily again.

Matt allowed his hand to stray over to the console, where he rested it for a few moments. Swallowing his nerves, and mentally berating himself for acting like a teenager on his first date, he reached further, letting his fingers brush the back of Emily's hand very gently. She turned her palm up in response, and joined their hands, biting her lip, struggling to steel her own nerves.

* * *

"So, you want anything?" Matt asked, leading the way into his apartment, for what was undoubtedly going to be a difficult conversation. 

"Um, water?" Emily wasn't normally one to beat around the bush, but she needed to work herself up to this.

Emily sat on Matt's couch, staring at the apartment that had been so familiar to her, but at the same time, seemed a sight she'd never view again. Matt returned from the kitchen moments later, and set two glasses of water on the coffee table, before sitting next to her, though careful to keep his distance.

"So, who is starting this?" Matt asked, moving to rest his arm along the couch, and by default, behind her, but pulling it back down, not wanting to go there yet.

"How was your new partner?" This began with work, so they'd have to start with work.

"Dense, very dense."

"Matt, if we want to be partners, we have to agree not to base any of our judgments in the field on our personal relationship." She spoke very quickly, needing to get it out before she changed her mind.

"Agreed."

"So, you're saying that I was right in my call last week?" He hadn't thought that before.

"If you made it, because strategically you thought it was the best way to go, and not because you were mad at me."

"I was mad at you, but that isn't why I didn't walk away with you. We still had a chance of ending it without tactical, and I had to try, regardless of the sleazy senator."

"Fair enough…but was it that easy of a call to make? Between me and the job?" That was what really hurt him, that she maybe she'd didn't care as much as he thought she did.

"No, it wasn't, well yes maybe. I was angry with you, it made hurting you easier. If I hadn't been angry, I'm not sure if I could have, and that, that's terrifying Matt."

"Why?"

"Because I've never loved somebody so much I'd give up everything for them. And, and, and, god Matt, we jumped each other with barely a door between us and our coworkers, neither of us cared. Cheryl could have walked in midway through, and we just didn't give a damn. That doesn't scare you a little bit?"

"I guess, but I always thought feeling that way about someone was a good thing?"

"It is when you're with that person, but the day you're not…it's as bad as it was good."

"Yeah, no argument there."

"Are we going to try this again?" Her voice held a tired wistfulness, as if she was almost too emotionally drained to hope.

"I missed you…a lot. I want you back." His throat moved as he swallowed a growing lump, and his eyes burned into Emily's in a way she'd never seen before.

"Me too." She told him, so much meaning riding on those two little words.

Matt finally made a move toward her, unable to resist any longer, he scooted closer, and wrapped his arms snuggly around her, feeling her twist around him seconds later. She laid her head against his shoulder, and he allowed his face to burrow into her hair, as both enjoyed just being able to hold each other again.

"Matt?" Emily pulled her head up after a few minutes.

"Yeah?"

"If we're going to do this, and make it work, I need you to do one other thing for me."

"Name it." He was prepared to do just about anything to make it work.

"Stop cutting me off when I try to talk, whether it's at work or just between us. It's infuriating." That was why she ended up so angry during that negotiation.

"Sorry. I'll have to work on that."

"Thank you." They became quiet again, only for a few seconds. Their faces were no more than three inches apart, and Matt absently stroked a lock of Emily's hair.

"Will you do something for me?" There had been something on his mind for a while also.

"Anything."

"Don't be scared of me." She started, caught completely off guard by his request. She didn't move to comment, not sure what to say.

"I know what we have scares you, and I know how hard it is for you to trust people, but god help me, the last thing I want to do is to hurt you…I'm not going anywhere, Em." It had taken a lot for them to get to where they did, but part of him knew that Emily was still afraid of it.

She bit her lip nervously, that had been what always derailed her relationships; she wasn't good at opening up, she wasn't good at trusting, but this time was different. She didn't want to lose him, lose what they had together, so made a decision, and repeated his earlier words back at him. "I'll work on that."

He smiled and finally brought his lips to hers, placing the most delicate of kisses against her soft lips. He was about to pull away, but she pulled him back, locking her lips with his. They finally pulled apart a few breathless minutes later, foreheads pressed together as they caught their breath. Not willing to lose a second after their nine-day separation, Emily climbed into Matt's lap, her face never moving from his.

He ran his hands up the back of her shirt, caressing her skin, intoxicated by the feel of her. Lips pressed to his, Emily took the many buttons on his shirt one by one, allowing her hands to stop and roam his chest every so often. Matt was working similarly with her bra, unhooking the clasp with ease, giving himself unimpeded access to her breasts. Her shirt still on, he left the bra where it was, but let his hands travel from her back to her chest, his hands delicately caressing her along the way.

Emily finally finished with his buttons, and yanked his shirt off with little grace, hunger driving her. Matt smiled when he heard her breath hitch, as his hands made contact with her breasts. He whispered barely audibly against her mouth, "bedroom." She nodded absently, paying little attention to his words, to focused on their actions. So, Matt simply stood up, and once he felt her legs securely wrap around him, he walked to the bedroom, falling onto the bed with her giggling underneath him.

They made love long into the night; their make-up sex as long as their break-up sex was short. It wasn't exciting the same way the break-up sex had been. There was no one to catch them, no threat of being discovered, no voices in their heads telling them they shouldn't be doing it. It wasn't quick and dirty, but long, and intimate in every sense a couple could be. It spoke of hurtles cleared, bonds grown stronger, and many more times to come.

* * *

Emily woke early the next morning, well before they had to get to work. She blinked at the light streaming in through Matt's window, and turned to look at the man in question. His head was buried in her shoulder, and their bodies and limbs were so tangled together, it was difficult to see what belonged to whom. She ginned to herself; it hadn't been a dream. 

As if sensing the change in her breathing or heartbeat, Matt blinked awake, startled pleasantly by the hair in his face. He kissed her neck, not sure if she was awake yet, and tightened his arm around her midsection. When the gentle pounding he felt against his chest quickened slightly, he knew she was, and kissed her neck again. This time her breathing hitched slightly, and Matt smiled, pleased with himself, before leaning up to look at her.

"Good Morning," she told him, coyly.

"Yes, I agree, it is a very good morning." His lips brushed hers, neither concerned about morning breath.

"Hmm, the best." She barely got the words out, before he stole another kissed, turning her onto her back in the process. She giggled.

They kissed awhile longer, allowing their tongues all the freedom they'd given their bodies the previous night. Eventually, they had to pull away for oxygen's sake, and that was when Matt suddenly remembered something.

"I have something for you," he told her, leaving over to fishing around in his night table, before the object he was searching for appeared.

"Oh yeah, what's that?" She resisted the urge to pull him back down to her, more interested in him than whatever he had for her.

Rather than answer, he grabbed her left hand, and she felt him slide something on her ring finger. Then he kissed her hand, and let her look at it. The toy adorned her ring finger, as if it was an obscenely expensive engagement ring.

"You took it?" She sat up, the upper-half of her body turned to face him.

"Yeah, I found it on your desk, and figured you wouldn't miss it." He looked mildly embarrassed for a moment.

"I did, I looked everywhere for it, figured I just lost it again." She looked altenately between Matt and the ring, a smile on her face.

Matt spoke again after a few minutes silence, "I don't want to lose you again, Em."

She started at his words. This wasn't his spontaneous way of…was it? He must have noticed the shock on her face, because he spoke quickly.

"Relax, I'm not proposing. This is just…a promise." He watched her relax visibly, but there was still a question in her eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, Em." He repeated his earlier words, his promise.

She grabbed his head, and placed such a deeply passionate kiss on his lips, he lost his balance and fell into her, knocking them both down back onto the bed. She giggled into his mouth, wraping a leg around him holding him against her.

"Liked that did you?" He mumbled inbetween kisses, grinning at her eagerness.

* * *

"You heard from them yet?" Frank asked Cheryl, who was glancing at her watch again. She came out of her office over to check on them, and feeling fidgety with two of her agents missing, made her way to the analysis room, hoping for something to do. 

"Not a word. I think I'll call them soon." Frank rolled his eyes; she'd been saying that for the last half hour.

"They're what, about an hour and a half late now?" Matt and Emily hadn't shown up for work yet, and even he was starting to worry.

"Yeah. They're never late."

"Probably just had wake-up sex," Duff suggested nonchalantly, his eyes not moving from the computer screen he and Lia were studying.

"That's what it better be." That statement earned Cheryl several surprised looks.

"You mean, you'd be happy if that's why they were late?" Lia asked incredulously.

"Yes, that means I don't have to figure out reassignments, and I get my best team back."

"Speak of the devil," Frank smiled, and gestured to the two agents speed walking to their desks.

"Matt, Emily get in here!" She called to them, her voice sharp.

"Uh hey, sorry we're late."

"Yeah, you know, mornings…" Matt trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

"See I told you, wake-up sex." Duff shrugged, grinning at the nervous couple.

"Oh well we…"

"That's not really…" They spoke at once, stopping without finishing.

Cheryl held up a hand, "all I want to know is if you made up?"

They looked at each other, and both nodded, Matt answering, "Yeah, yeah."

"Then I don't care…for today. Don't be late again."

"O-okay," Emily said, taken aback.

"Uh thanks." Matt was equally at a loss for words.

"What is that thing on your hand?" Cheyrl asked suddenly, pointing to Emily's finger, stilll bearing the toy ring.

"Oh, it's nothing." Emily gave a nervous laugh, and hid her hand behind her back.

"No, it was something. Was that a ring?"

Everyone else's eyes bugged out at the idea; they _really_ had made up.

"It's plastic, fake." She pulled her hand back out, realizing she wasn't going to get away with it.

"Why are you wearing a fake ring?" Duff asked, completely obliviously to any romance in the gesture; Lia and Cheryl rolled their eyes at him.

"Wait," Frank suddenly said, giving them a sideways look, "is that something cutesy between you two?"

Duff made a face, while the other four people rolled their eyes at Frank.

"That's none of your business," Matt told him firmly.

Frank was about to retort, when a hysterical music burst from Cheryl's pocket. She pulled her phone out, answering quickly, and speaking even quicker in a lightning fast conversation. Five people watched her intently, everyone predicting the same message. She clicked the device shut, and turned back to the waiting group.

"Saddle up, we've got a situation at the Hershey's factory," she announced, hurrying off to prepare, leaving the group to disperse and prepare for just another day at the office.

As the small group, sans Lia, were walking out of the building, ready to jump in their SUVs and fly to the scene, they passed Brian Wallace from VICAP in the hall. His expression was nervous, untrusting, almost weary as he caught site of Cheryl, and he avoided looking in their eyes.

"Wallace looks a little freaked, what's with him?" Matt asked Cheryl curiously, noticing the man's expression.

"Oh, nothing he won't get over."

* * *

_I had some major writer's block issues with this chapter, but it's finally done! I can get back to Next Month now. Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


End file.
